Ariane had also been so very sweet with Martine. A special bond existed between the two of them. Lately something was wrong with Martine. She was having mood swings. She either locked herself up in her room and ignored him or stuck to him like glue. That was what Patrick had come to talk to Ariane about on Saturday night. Maybe she had a clue what was going on. Possibly boy trouble. He could not believe Martine would soon be seventeen. If it was a boy issue, she would feel uncomfortable talking about it with her father.
What else did he know about Ariane? That before him there had been only one man in her life. A sadistic monster who had hurt her so badly it had taken her years to recover. Every time Patrick thought of that bastard, he cringed and felt murderous.
What a mess they had both been when they had first connected.
At the time, he’d still been carrying a torch for his wife. In hindsight he wondered why he had mourned the departure of that self-centered creature. The best thing she had ever done for him was to pack and vanish, leaving their daughter behind. Walking out on him, he could understand. Maybe he had not been attentive enough, maybe she had fallen in love with another guy or decided she liked women better, who knew. But whatever her reasons for leaving him, it was abandoning Martine that he could not fathom. What kind of woman abandons such a youn child and never looks back? A woman who deserves nothing more than to be divorced in absentia. He had waited a long time, but he had finally filed last Christmas. Now that part of his life was over. The page was turned. The divorce had become final.
Earlier that year, he had wanted to invite Ariane out to celebrate the event, but she had declined. He had not doubted for a second that she would be happy for him. The look on her face when he told her about the divorce showed him how delighted Ariane was for him that he was starting a new chapter in his life. Even though theirs had not started as a traditional affair, he knew she cared deeply for him.
However, lately, she had become distant. Whenever he dropped by, she gently turned him away. There was always an accounting deadline or some other urgent chore that couldn’t be postponed. She did it so nicely that it took a few weeks for him to register that something was off. He missed her very much, and he felt a blow when he realized that she might have decided to close her door to him for good. If that was so, he had to know why. Surely Ariane would understand his need for an answer. After all, she had seen how tormented he had been by the silent departure of his wife. Patrick thought he would be able to deal with whatever explanation she would give him, but one thing was sure: He could not be dumped again without an explanation.
And then again, maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe everything would get back to normal when she was not so busy with the extra work she’d given herself organizing her intensive weekend workshop. That night would be their first date, and he was going to make sure they had fun.
***
At 8:00 p.m., Jean-Michel, Charles, and Ariane came to pick him up at his place. Each of them wore jeans, sneakers, and a flashy rainbow-colored T-shirt with the logo of Jean-Michel’s LGBT association on it. Jean-Michel had brought one for Patrick, too.
“No pressure. You don’t have to wear it tonight if you don’t want to.”
“Of course I’ll wear it,” Patrick said, pulling off his T-shirt to switch tops.
Charles admired Patrick’s well-sculpted torso. “Wow. I had no idea bakers were built like fireman. An entire new world is opening up to me!”
Jean-Michel laughed and put his hands over his lover’s eyes. “You’re not even supposed to see him,” he said playfully. “You should only have eyes for me.”
Patrick felt a little embarrassed at being teased this way, but what the hell. He had a good body, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. But Ariane was looking the other way. What the hell was wrong with her?
They walked down the rue Saint Dominique to the taxi stand on the corner of Avenue Bosquet and Avenue Rapp to take a ride to the Marais. They picked a tiny Chinese restaurant with a few outdoor tables and sampled dumplings with Asian beer. Afterwards, at a leisurely pace, they walked the very crowded Place de la Bastille.
A sturdy temporary stage had been built on the Place by the Inter-LGBT Association to give everyone a chance to see the show. Charles decided that they would get as close as possible to the stage. He walked through the crowd like a true concert pro. They all held hands so they wouldn’t get separated. Charles led the way, clearing a path so Jean-Michel, Ariane, and Patrick could follow.
They stopped close enough to watch Mika come on stage, cheered with the crowd, and started to dance. Patrick wasn’t much of a dancer and just moved a little to the rhythm. Ariane acted a lot wilder and more carefree than usual. He smiled, amused by her shaking her hair like a possessed woman. He thought it was kind of fun until, in the middle of “Relax Take It Easy,” Ariane was sandwiched between Jean-Michel and Charles. The three of them were singing along and jumping up and down together as one. Something in Patrick snapped.
He knew the two men weren’t competition for him. They weren’t even playing in the same league. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let her dance with them so closely. He pushed Jean-Michel away and took his place. Judging by the look of surprise on Jean-Michel’s face, his grip on Jean-Michel’s arm had been a little too strong and the look on his face a little too menacing. Patrick didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that he was the one facing Ariane and jumping up and down with her. He concentrated on Ariane’s face and tried to ignore Charles, still a jumping nuisance behind her. He’d have to think about this behavior later. He had no idea where that sudden impulse had come from.
Patrick caught Ariane by the waist and didn’t let go of her at the end of the song when the crowd was all applause and cheers. Jean-Michel and Charles shamelessly hugged and kissed in public, and it was to Patrick that a flushed, out-of-breath Ariane gave her best smile. Everything was as it should be.
At 1:00 a.m., they all decided to call it a night and walked back together to the rue Saint Dominique. Patrick said he would see Ariane safely home, so Jean-Michel and Charles went directly to Jean-Michel’s studio over the shop while Patrick and Ariane went down the street.
He walked her to the carriage door, and when he felt she was going to push him away again, he asked, “Would you mind if I came in for a moment? There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“Sure,” Ariane said, looking up at Madame Caroline’s windows overlooking the courtyard. He followed her gaze. All the lights were out.
Patrick went in behind her, closed the door, and asked, “Why are you shutting me out?”
“What do you mean?”
“Please, Ariane, don’t play with me. You’ve been turning me away every single time I come to see you lately. You and I, it’s been too long. I miss you.”
“You miss me? You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said, her voice sad.
“No, I miss you, and I don’t know what’s wrong with us.”
“Us?” she whispered. “There is no us. You made that very clear to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Patrick could not begin to imagine what she was referring to.
“I’m talking about the day you came over to let me know that your divorce was final.”
“What about that day?” He quickly replayed their conversation from that day in his head. He still had no idea what she was talking about.
“You went on and on about how, at last, you were getting on with your life. You said you were turning a new page. You were starting over. You were moving on. Oh God, you said it so many different ways that even the most dimwitted person could have read your message loud and clear.”
Stunned, Patrick looked at Ariane. Her voice was breaking as she spoke, and her eyes were so shiny. Was she about to cry? She never cried. She had totally misunderstood what he had been telling her. “Oh, Ariane, I’m so sorry.” He reached for her.
She backed away as if his touch would have been too painful to bear and gave him a bra
ve smile.
“Don’t be. I’m happy for you. Truly I am. I also understand. I was your rebound girl. A crutch you need to leave behind now that you’re walking tall and proud again.”
“Ariane, I didn’t mean to…”
She interrupted him with a finger on his lips.
“Hush… We’re good. I was a little shaken at first, but now I’ve accepted it. I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry about me. And your timing couldn’t have been more perfect since I may even have met someone.”
“You what?” Patrick was almost yelling.
“One of the men who attended last weekend’s seminar. I thought you knew since Martine walked in on us the Sunday before last.”
“She walked in on you while you were… here?” Patrick asked, looking around the kitchen. He held his breath waiting for her answer. What was that feeling again? It had reared its ugly head when he looked at her dancing with the guys earlier. He thought he had drowned it the second he had pushed Jean-Michel aside, but there it was again, back with a vengeance. It was a new form of anger he had never felt before, and it was taking over his brain.
She laughed away his question. “No. Don’t be silly. You know me better than that. I wouldn’t jump in bed with a guy that I’ve only known for a couple of days. We were just kissing.”
“So you haven’t slept with him yet?” He could hear the unmistakable relief in his voice despite his attempt to keep his tone neutral.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. He’s gone back to New York. He says he’s coming back to live here a while, to be with me. We’ll see if that really happens. Anyway, Martine ran out, and she’s been avoiding me since.”
“She’s been rattled,” Patrick said. “Her mood has been a regular roller coaster.”
“That means she knows about us. She must think I’m cheating on you and she’s caught in a conflict of loyalty.” Ariane looked very concerned.
“There’s no question. She knows. Ever since she turned fifteen, I’ve done nothing to hide it from her. We weren’t doing anything wrong, and she was of an age to understand. We’ve never talked about it, but I’m pretty sure she knew even before.”
“Would you talk to her? Please?” Ariane reached out for Patrick’s arm. “I don’t want her to hate me.”
“She would never hate you. You’re the closest thing to a mother my baby ever had. She loves you.”
“And I love her. Please tell her I didn’t betray you, that you ended it first.”
“I’ll tell her that, if that’s what you wish. But that would not be true. I never meant to let you go. Never. It was all a misunderstanding.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you get it? When I told you that I was a new man, that I was finally free, I never meant that I was free from you. I meant that I was free for you. I didn’t want to let you go. I still don’t.”
Chapter 6
Ariane
“SO YOU DIDN’T WANT TO end it?” Ariane asked, feeling her entire universe turning upside down and tears pooling in her eyes. No, she wouldn’t cry. She was done doing that. She was never, ever, ever crying over a man again. She blinked the tears away and looked everywhere but at Patrick’s face.
Oh God! She wished she could faint. It would be so convenient. Shut out the sound, shut out the image, shut out the world, and come to very, very slowly. Slowly enough to have the time she needed to think what to do with the live grenade he had just tossed her.
But then fainting was not her style. Neither was crying, really. Nevertheless, no matter how fast she blinked, the tears she had been fighting were coming back. Within seconds they would be pouring down her face. Seeing the devastated expression on Patrick’s face when she finally raised her eyes did not help a bit. Oh no, the dam was broken. This was going to be hell. When she got started there was no stopping her. The Niagara, Victoria, and Iguazu falls all had nothing on her. She wept.
This time, when he reached for her, she did not back away but let him hold her. She burrowed her face in his shoulder and let her tears flow. What a waste, what a terrible waste. She was soaking his rainbow T-shirt while he held her tight making soothing sounds.
“Ariane, baby. Please don’t cry. Whatever you decide, it will be fine. It’s going to be all right. I promise.”
He tilted her head back and gently kissed away her tears and then down her cheeks. He chased the last tear from her lips with the tip of his tongue, and she opened her mouth to him. She could taste the salt from her tears on his lips. He kissed her gently. His kiss was as shy as a first kiss. She shivered, and he stopped to ask if she was cold.
“No, I’m overwhelmed.”
He kissed her again and said, “For now, we’ll do what we do best together. We’ll comfort each other. No promises. No strings attached. No ties. No questions. How does that sound?”
“Good.”
“Later on maybe—not tomorrow but sometime next week—we’ll talk.”
“Ok.”
“Come on. Let’s go up.”
She let him lead her up the tiny spiral staircase, take her clothes off, and put her to bed. She felt like a broken doll. He undressed and joined her in bed. She curled up in his arms and fell asleep feeling very lost and thankful he was there for her beyond just sex.
***
Ariane woke up in the middle of the night and freed herself from Patrick’s arms. He stirred but did not wake. She tiptoed to the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the light. She looked like hell. She washed her face, pressed some cold water on her eyes, and brushed her teeth.
As she went back to bed she felt a wave of tenderness for that man. He had always been so sweet to her. She nested against him, and, deep in sleep, he wrapped one arm around her again.
Questions started to collide in her head. What have I done? What should I do? She chased them away. The middle of the night was not the time for all her questions. She would revisit her situation after a good night’s sleep. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing until it fell in sync with Patrick’s. Then she fell back to sleep.
She was still lying in his arms when her alarm rang at 7:00 a.m. He was awake and looking at her. That was a first. He always rushed out at the crack of dawn to get to work. The thought registered. Work. He should have been at work already.
“Patrick, it’s seven already.”
“I know.”
“You’re not at the store.”
“I choose to play hooky today. I texted my apprentice. He knows he’s on his own this morning.”
“You’re sure that’s wise?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “We’ll see. Maybe he’ll rise to the occasion and surprise us.”
“That would be nice.”
“I’ve always rushed out of your bed like a thief while you’re fast asleep. I thought that I should stick around this time. I figured, you know, it could be my last opportunity to see what you look like in the morning.”
His tone was the one he used to joke, but Ariane could feel the tension in his voice. He was asking her about their future together without putting her on the spot.
He rolled onto his side to face her and ran his free hand down her spine from the top of her shoulder to the small of her back and then up again. The “butterfly massage” is what she had nicknamed this caress that gave her goose bumps every single time. Ariane sighed. That was delicious. Patrick did it again, but this time his hand pushed farther down to her buttock. He paused. She understood it as a request for permission to continue. She shivered in silence and did nothing to stop him. She couldn’t resist, and she melted under his fingers. She looked at him and realized that until the night before, she had not allowed herself to admit how devastated she had been by their separation.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said very softly.
“But I never left,” he said and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Lying on top of him, she could feel that he was ready for her.
Her heart
went out to him. He was showing her he wanted her, but he was letting her decide. He was such a sweet man.
“I meant what I said last night,” he said. “I’m here to comfort you, and today there will be no promises and no questions.”
Ariane rested her head on his torso and wrestled with her dilemma.
She had not officially committed to anything with Peter, but still, if the man was true to his word, he would be turning his own life upside down to be with her. Making love with another man while waiting for Peter’s return was an undeniable betrayal. It would truly be an unacceptable behavior, at least in her book. Come to think of it, spending a night in the arms of another man was already borderline. But then again, Peter might change his mind and never move to Paris, while Patrick was there, right by her side, as always. She now realized that it was her total lack of self-confidence that had brought on this absurd misunderstanding. Would she have felt the same attraction for Peter had she not believed that Patrick had walked out on her? Probably. Would she have allowed Peter to get so close? There was no way she could answer that question.
Patrick stirred under her. A slight movement of the hips sent tiny electrical jolts throughout her body. That was all she needed to lead her to decide on an impulsive compromise. One that would be kind of fair to Patrick without being totally untrue to Peter.
She slid down the bed and kneeled between his legs. She teased his glistening tip with her tongue and then said, “This is just for you. Don’t hold back.”
She smiled to herself and thought that there was a famous American historical precedent which claimed that what she was doing was not really sex.
Chapter 7
Mary
TWO WEEKS AFTER THEIR RETURN from her birthday trip, Mary shared another taxi to JFK with her brother. She wasn’t coming along for the ride just because she wanted to wish him a bon voyage. She would normally have done that from his home. She was tagging along because her brother’s departure coincided with George’s arrival.
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